


The Desert Wind Blows

by tempered_rose



Series: Western Verse [3]
Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Western, Angst, Flirting, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Law Enforcement, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 04:18:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3836800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tempered_rose/pseuds/tempered_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miroslav arrives into Sundance a few months after he left and finds Thomas of course. Only things don't quite go the way Thomas had hoped…</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Desert Wind Blows

**Author's Note:**

> The first of the oneshots for this verse that I refuse to let go! *ahem* There's a reason why this one's first, you'll see ;) *hides from the potential lynch mob*
> 
> Please read and review; concrit is always most welcome and appreciated ♥

A river in a desert is not often more than a trickle of water, slowly meandering its way under the hot sun to the end of its trail. During the course of it, it can evaporate or it can flood over as it changes with the seasons. The river lingers on and winds its way through the canyons until it arrives at its end at a lake or reservoir where it will endure as it has always done in the new environment.

But sometimes a desert river can disappear altogether, as if it had never been and the only reminder that’s left is a curious pattern in the sand…

\---

The thick leather bound Bible in his hands was heavy as it rested against his chest. He breathed evenly as he napped in the shade of a pine tree in the afternoon sun. A fishing pole was stuck in the ground but the tug on the line went unnoticed by the master of said line who was too busy catching a wink while resting against the trunk of a tree.

Thomas hadn’t really been reading the Bible for the theological value, much to his father’s dismay, so much as to pass the time and the fact there really wasn’t much else to read in Sundance anyhow meant that the book in his hands was about the only thing easy to get his hands on. Regardless, it now rested against his chest as he dozed in the shade, with one of his hands holding it to his chest and the other arm was lying on the ground.

It was there in that position that the Marshal found him, legs splayed and asleep, when the old lawman came upon the boy.

Miroslav shook his head, a smile crossing his face when he saw that Thomas was passed out asleep. Deciding against waking him, Miroslav took the fishing pole in hand and pulled in the fish that had been struggling against the hook for God only knew how long. Once the fish had been laid in the basket with two others from earlier, Miroslav sat on a stump nearby Thomas’ sleeping form and dipped the hook back into the creek and waited for another bite.

The lawman had caught three more fish over the course of an hour by the time Thomas woke himself up with too loud a snore. He sat up groggily and Miroslav glanced over his shoulder to watch the disoriented boy make heads and tails of where he was. It took a few moments and Miroslav’s amusement grew as he watched Thomas. The Marshal knew from past experience that when freshly roused from slumber, Thomas was hardly the most coordinated of individuals. Then again, wide-awake Thomas could still have the potential to walk into a door… Miroslav smiled to himself at the recollection when he saw Thomas freeze and stare at him.

“Am I dreaming you up? Or are you actually here?” He asked, rubbing the sleep, or perhaps the disbelief, out of his eyes.

Miroslav nodded slowly and watched Thomas rise up to his gangly legs, Bible dropping to the ground without either of them paying much attention to the Good Book.

“I am. I’m right here.”

“When’d you get back?” Thomas asked moving over to the stump and he yawned while he scratched his chest. Miroslav’s eyes dropped to the partially unbuttoned shirt and the tanned skin underneath. He had to remind himself to look up before Thomas would catch him staring.

“This morning. I came looking for you and found you asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.”

Miroslav kept his head turned so that he could watch Thomas and the boy moved closer so that he rested his elbow on the lawman’s shoulder. There wasn’t much shade there, by that stump, so the light flickered unchecked through Thomas’ hair. With his presence, the sun was blocked from entering Miroslav’s eyes and for that he was grateful. He could look at Thomas and be blinded only by the young man’s beauty, not by the sun.

“You should’ve woken me up.” Thomas shrugged and kept his arm resting on Miroslav’s. If it had been anyone else, Miro wouldn’t have dared to allow them to keep such close quarters so casually. But since it was Thomas…

Miro felt another tug on the line and pulled another fish back in, his attention momentarily taken away from the young man next to him. Miroslav pulled the fish in but it was Thomas who detached it from the line, pulling the hook from the flopping creature’s mouth and set it in the basket.

“You’ve been busy.” Thomas stated and gestured to the bigger catch than he’d had when he’d fallen asleep.

“Had to do something while waiting on you to wake up.” Miroslav smiled a little and didn’t cast the line back out again. Thomas closed the basket on the still twitching fish and moved back over to Miroslav.

“I missed you, Opa.” He said it so casually that it could have been as if Miroslav had only been gone a few minutes, instead of a few months. The meaning and significance wasn’t lost on either of them.

Miroslav could still speak the language of his homeland, but it wasn’t as good as it had been when he’d been a boy. He had no one to speak Polish with in the far reaches and remoteness of the American west. But he remembered many long conversations with his father when he’d wanted to join the army, or his mother and father talking in hushed tones when Miro’s brother had fallen ill with fever. He could remember many relatives back and forth who spoke no English at all and only continued in the words of their native land.

He had taught Thomas only a few words, but Opa was one of them. Miro had been telling a story about his grandfather and the word had slipped out as he’d been going. Thomas had to ask what it meant and Miro told him. He wasn’t even sure why that had stuck as the name of endearment Thomas had chosen for him, but, like Thomas, it wasn’t so much the meaning of the word rather than the sentiment behind it. Miro was hardly a grandfather, but Thomas didn’t mind and Miro liked to hear the boy say it.

“I miss you too, Thomas.” Miroslav said quietly and kept his eyes on the low-running river in front of them. The sound of the water trickling over the rocks surrounded them and for a few moments everything was still.

“How long are you staying for?” Thomas asked and Miroslav almost sighed. Almost. He hated when Thomas asked because the answer never changed. Long enough to do work, but not long enough to make it mean something significant. It was cruel, the way he and Thomas had to go about their little affair. Thomas deserved better than that.

“Not long enough.” Miroslav replied, his tone poisoned by the fact he wished things were different and that he could stay. Perhaps one day if he could ever retire, he and Thomas could strike out further west and end up in San Francisco. Thomas could be his ‘companion’ and perhaps there no one would think the wiser. They could change their names, pretend they were different people and they wouldn’t have to hide their shame quite so much…

Miroslav mentally shook the hope from his mind. Lawmen didn’t retire and especially not Marshals. They were too valuable and the life expectancy wasn’t long enough to entertain such dreams. One of these days, Miro knew, it would only be a matter of time before some courier was sent from Santa Fe with Miroslav’s personal affects and a telegram of condolence sent to Mats. From there his things would be distributed according to his final will and testament. Thomas and his family would receive the pay Miroslav was due; that’s about as good as taking care of the boy from beyond the grave as he could manage.

“What are you thinking?” Thomas asked, frown on his face. He must have been speaking but Miroslav was too lost in thought of his demise to have been paying attention.

Miroslav shook his head and offered an apologetic smile, rising from the stump to face Thomas at last.

“I’m sorry. I was thinking how nice it is to see you again.” As silky and smooth as his lie was, Thomas wasn’t fooled but he decided against pushing the matter further. Especially since Miroslav had put his arm around the boy and pulled him close for a hug. It was too close to be proper, but not as close to make it scandalous. That didn’t mean Miroslav didn’t wish he could pull Thomas against his body completely and kiss him from head to toe and tell him the things he could never, ever say aloud.

“Let’s go back to town. You’ve been gone long enough.” Miroslav murmured quietly and Thomas nodded slowly. The ghost of Miro’s lips touched his cheek near his ear before the older man pulled away and stooped to get the basket full of fish from the day’s labors.

Thomas reeled in the line and carried the pole, almost forgetting the Bible that lay under the tree until Miroslav reminded him. With red cheeks, Thomas picked it up and they started back towards town.

“Mats wasn’t there when I stopped in.” Miroslav made comment as they walked beside the river.

Thomas nodded. “He and Marco are still in Texas and haven’t said when they’re coming back. Fips is afraid that Mats is going to stay there and Satan Bob is moaning about lost income. It’s doing Julian’s head in.”

“Why?”

“Because Satan Bob don’t really mean it, he’s just doing it to pester Julian on account of Erik and his being friends and Satan Bob likes to torment Julian with that.”

Miroslav frowned. “I’m not following you…why does Erik and Julian’s friendship have anything to do with—”

“Because Satan Bob is fucking Erik and likes to rub it in the uptight Yankee’s face. No offense.” Thomas’ tone changed from amusement to indifference on his last two words. Miroslav’s eyebrow rose and his tone went dry.

“I’m hardly uptight, Thomas.” They continued walking across the small wood-slat bridge that separated a branch of the river that turned into a trickle of a creek from the road. “And Robert with Erik? Well, I didn’t see that one coming, that’s for sure.”

“Fips is put out as well. He thinks Erik, if he felt so inclined, could have done better than Lewy anyhow.”

“Is he jealous?” Miroslav’s eyebrows rose again, higher than before.

“No, I don’t think so. Just worried for him, I reckon.” Thomas shrugged and continued on. “And before you ask, the reason Lewy is messing with Julian so much is cause everybody thinks Bene and Julian have a thing going on, but Julian’s too uptight to let anything happen. Bene flirts like you wouldn’t believe, but Julian is too tight-laced to do much about it.”

“Perhaps he doesn’t like men?”

“Then why’s he blush so much and stare at Benedikt when Bene isn’t looking?” Thomas stopped mid-step and stared with his hands on his hips.

“Fair enough.” Miroslav smiled in amusement before reaching out to touch Thomas’ shoulder lightly. They were too close to town to show much more affection, much to Miroslav’s dismay. “I think it best not to dabble. Dramatics can be created that way and it’s never pleasant, especially when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“Who knew you were so eloquent about other people’s feelings?” Thomas asked, laughing.

“Who knew you’d turned into such a gossip?” Miroslav asked and smirked when Thomas pouted.

“Miroslav! Julian said you’d come into town.” Benedikt greeted as the pair of them walked into town. Miroslav made the greetings and resumed being on his best behavior as they started to talk about business. Thomas took the basket from Miroslav and excused himself to head back to the hotel; Miro watched him go.

Benedikt and the Marshal discussed the business that brought him into town and the convict that he would be escorting back to the Territory’s capital before Benedikt smiled a little, knowingly, at him.

“Not here long then?”

Miroslav shook his head. “No. Few days at the most, and even that is pushing it.”

“That’s a shame. We miss seeing you around here; some more than others.” Benedikt smiled and gestured vaguely with his hand in the direction of the hotel.

Miroslav smiled a little, the bitterness he felt about the situation edged into it against his will. “One of these days I’m not going to come back and you’ll have a new Marshal in this part of the world.”

“That’ll be the day that Thomas Muller’s heart will be forever broken.” Benedikt replied before frowning. “What’s got you so glum?”

Miro shook his head. “It’s a fact of life, and it’s the truth.”

“That may be but you could always quit. I hear New Orleans is quite entertaining. You and he could retire there and be quite happy.” Benedikt smiled, looking hopeful but Miroslav shook his head.

“I won’t retire from this job. The only retirement I’ll ever get is the day they bury me under the ground and even then I’ll be restless. That boy deserves better than me and we all know it. Even he knows it.”

Miroslav turned away from Benedikt and started up the steps into the jail to escape the look that Benedikt was giving him and he sighed. He forced a smile onto his face when he saw young Julian at the desk.

“How is my friend from the wilds of Maine again?”

And no matter how had Benedikt tried, Miroslav refused to let the conversation from the street linger for the rest of the afternoon.

\---

It’s a strange thing when there is a thunderstorm in the desert. A low rumble begins from a distance, over the mountains and the hills, signaling that it is coming. Sometimes it never arrives and disappears as if it were a figment of the imagination and never truly existed at all; where other times, it does rain a while later. And, should it rain, it only rains a little, just enough to keep the few things living there still alive.

But sometimes it rains so much that the ground floods, mud and sand get swept away and help the great canyon in the Arizona territory get shaped just a little bit more…

\---

The wind stirred the curtains that were left open for relief of the stuffiness that all the hot air brings with it daily. The rumble was louder because of it and a loud boom of thunder woke Thomas from his sleep. Outside the soft pit-pat of rain on the dirt carried in light tones and the gentle breeze that blew it against the hotel’s roof made the song all the more calming.

A flash of lightning illuminated the room and Thomas started when he felt a light touch along his back. He had to remind himself that he hadn’t been alone and he relaxed slightly when the smell of Miroslav mingled with that of damp earth from the open window.

“It’s just a storm, go back to sleep.” Miroslav whispered in the darkness and Thomas nodded, sliding closer regardless.

“I don’t like them. Thunder is loud.” Thomas whispered back and Miroslav’s arm tightened a little more around his waist for protectiveness.

“It is, but you’ll be safe. I’ll see to it.” Miroslav promised a finger lightly touching Thomas’ scruffy cheek.

“Promise?” Thomas asked and Miroslav leaned down to kiss him.

“As long as I am with you, you will be safe, I promise you.”

“Then don’t leave. Don’t ever leave me.” Thomas asked. “I don’t like when you’re gone. I always worry.”

Miroslav sighed and he held Thomas a little closer.

“I know you don’t like it, but it’s my job, my duty, to patrol this region of the territory. I can’t just stay in one place. I have to move around, or there’s no use for me.”

“So retire and live here.”

“I can’t, Thomas. We would never be able to be together, not the way you want, not here. Everyone knows too much here.” Miroslav sighed and Thomas held tighter to him, afraid that Miroslav would pull away and get up from bed. A rational fear, Miroslav thought, because that’s what he would have done.

The cool night air carried through the window and Thomas shivered from it and his nakedness.

“Then I’ll run away with you. We can go wherever you want, I’ll do whatever you ask. Just don’t leave me. _Please_?”

Miroslav sighed at that and started to pull away, only for Thomas to hold on tighter, so tightly that Miro’s ribs were surely going to be bruised later. The older man touched Thomas’ hand and squeezed lightly, letting him sit up enough to rest against the headboard. Thomas sat up, too, and stared wide-eyed at the other man; his fear showed with the flash of the storm that brightened the whole room.

“Thomas, Thomas, Thomas…” Miroslav sighed and pulled his hands away from the boy and ran one of them over his face. After a long while, the storm outside gaining strength meanwhile, Miroslav finally lowered his hands and looked into Thomas’ face.

“I have a duty to uphold the law and keep peace, it’s why I took this job. Finding you here, in all this dust and all this hardship and grief, gives me an oasis of peace to think of when I’m away from you. You are the balm to my tiresome bones and I miss you more than you can ever imagine. But you deserve more than I can give you. I’m just a man, not this hero you think me to be. I cannot help myself from being near you, but I cannot put aside my guilt for loving you as much as I do.”

“Miro, you don’t have to feel guilty for—” Thomas started speaking quickly, shaking his head as he did so, but Miroslav lifted his fingers and pressed them against Thomas’ mouth.

“Yes, yes I do, my darling boy, yes, I do.” He whispered, leaning over as he did so and kissed Thomas lightly on the lips after he moved his hand away. “God forgive me, I love you so much.”

Thomas made a sound akin to a whimper and pressed his body closer to the Marshal, kissing him with every ounce of youthful passion that his body could possess. Miroslav groaned at the intensity of the kiss and pulled the boy closer, hands running down his back as he did so. There was a moment of awkward scramble, but Thomas found himself in Miro’s lap and his arms were looped around the man’s neck as they kissed with a desire that matched the thunder outside.

“I love you too. I love you with all my heart and I’ll never stop, not even after I’m gone.” Thomas whispered ardently and pressed closer to the other man. He breathed in Miroslav’s scent and relaxed, he always did that when he was so close to the other man. “Ask me for anything and I’ll do it, just stay with me. Stay here or take me with you, don’t leave me alone ever again.”

If it had been different, Miroslav thought in the aftermath of another tryst of love-making with the rain the only witness, and Thomas had been female, Miroslav would have left the hotel that moment and roused a preacher to marry them at once. He could have had Fips and Benedikt as witnesses, the two smiling idiots that they would be at such news. As it was, the best Miroslav would ever be able to get would be to call Thomas his ‘companion’. It was an insulting word to the depth of their affections for one another, but it was all they had.

Thomas lay in his arms, asleep at last, and Miroslav resumed his staring at the ceiling.

He couldn’t stay, but nor could he take Thomas away from his family and from his home here, in Sundance. Miroslav didn’t have a choice in the end. It would break his heart to do it, but he didn’t have a choice.

\---

The desert wind blows and the sands change, where there were once footprints, all that remains is dust.

\---

Long before Thomas and the sun ever awoke, Miroslav had left the hotel and paid for his room. He’d gone to the jail and taken custody of the prisoner and both he and the convict were headed out of town and for the train yard in Silver City.

A note was left on the table beside the bed and it would be the first thing he saw, Miroslav thought as he rode in silence and the drizzle leftover from the storm. The creek was high and there would be a flooded riverbank to deal with, but Miroslav knew they would have it in hand before the water level got to be unmanageable. At least Thomas would be able to assist with that and be distracted enough so that he wouldn’t hurt too badly, Miro told himself.

He sighed and picked up the pace as the sun slowly began to rise in the east.


End file.
